


Every Tomorrow

by ShutUpandPull



Category: Castle
Genre: Caskett, F/M, episode 3x22, episode 4x23
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-10
Updated: 2015-04-10
Packaged: 2018-03-22 06:28:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3718534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShutUpandPull/pseuds/ShutUpandPull
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During their first night together, Beckett reveals something to Castle about their trip to Los Angeles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Every Tomorrow

**Author's Note:**

> I've always wanted to write a little something involving their talk on the couch in their hotel room in LA. It's a scene so powerful, it always makes my heart beat a little bit faster.

The spring storm’s thunder had all but faded away, its path high above them like a mirror of their own evening’s journey, harsh and heavy at the start, now, little more than an hour later, as his bed found them wrapped bare around one another, placid and gentle.

The room around them was awash in warm light from his neighboring office and in the sound of solitude, the outside world and all of its determined interlopers banished and forgotten in an unspoken pact made by two. His fingertips drifted in abstract patterns along the length of her shoulder blade, her body anchored possessively against the length of his, her ear pressed to his chest above his heart.

“You’re quiet.” Her words were but a whisper, a tickle at his skin, the first either had uttered since he slid slowly and reluctantly out of her with a sigh of remonstrance.

His fingers crawled upward into the still-damp waves of her hair, lingering evidence of life as it existed before, a life now so utterly and unexpectedly altered by a knock from a distant room. He stroked the wisps at her temple and she shivered at his repeated touch, his brain taking mental notes of every action and reaction, every cause and effect – a writer’s new story.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been accused of that before. Guess tonight is a night full of firsts.” He angled his head and pressed his lips against her. “And I know I’m this wildly famous author with all the right words, so you’ll have to forgive me, but all I can come up with right now is _wow_.”

She exhaled an abrupt laugh and pinched playfully at the skin of his hip - because that was something she could do now. “All this time without saying a thing and that’s all you could come up with? No wonder you only bang out one novel a year, Mr. Wildly Famous Author.”

His mouth dropped open in exaggerated objection. “Excuse me, Ms. Beckett. First of all, Nikki Heat requires tremendous care and attention and focus. She isn’t some hack like Harry Bosch. _Connelly_ …” he muttered disapprovingly under his breath. “Second of all, you are forbidden from using words like _bang_ from this point forward because I’ve barely been able to keep my hands off you all these years as it is. Now that I’ve had you, I can no longer be held responsible for my actions when you speak so suggestively.”

She used his hip bone as leverage and pushed her body up onto her elbow. “Now that _you’ve_ had _me_ , Castle? Please. That story desperately needs a rewrite.” She tucked several strands of loose hair back behind her ear. “I’m the one that came here for you, remember?”

“Oh, I remember how you ca-”

Even in the dim light he could feel her silence him with her eyes, as she so often did, deservedly so.

She didn’t say anything more as her left hand traced a line down the middle of his chest toward his waist and below. Slowly, deliberately she continued downward until her fingers made calculated contact with his warmth. “Trust me, Castle. _I_ had _you_.” She traveled his length and began the journey upward. “And I’m not anywhere near finished yet.”

He released an awkward sound, not quite a cough, certainly not a discernible word of any kind. “Well, that sounds – promising.”

She hummed in response, every bit an affirmation of his sentiment, and she settled back into place beside his body. He’d still barely moved an inch and she was glad of it, his form already like the perfect glove to her too-long-bare hand. “I like it here,” she murmured as her knee crept up his thigh and came to rest atop the curved bone at his waist, “against your skin, listening to your heartbeat.”

“Here is where I’ve always wanted you,” he professed without any hesitation, his arm draped across his own body, his palm hidden in the crook of her knee. “God, I just never expected--” His words faded into the hush of the room, his thought unfinished but his tone transparent in its bearing.

This was over. He was done. He’d spoken those words to her just hours before. Hours. He’d somehow managed to keep his legs underneath him as he walked away, his love left hanging in the air between them for a second time. And she hadn’t stopped him. That was the true agony. He hadn’t been enough. But then the knock and her words and her mouth and her body and now. How could he ever have imagined?

She lingered silently in it for a moment, the memory sudden and vivid in its arrival. It felt like a lifetime ago, yet it was all so clear – the pattern of his shirt, the hint of scotch on her tongue, the expanse of city light behind them, his knee so close if only she could’ve reached out beyond her wall. She couldn’t help herself and let out a tiny laugh. If only that Kate knew then what this Kate knew now. She had to laugh.

“What was that for? You know, you could really do a man permanent damage by laughing at him while you’re both naked in bed.”

“Something tells me that ego of yours would pull you through just fine, Castle,” she quipped. “But I wasn’t laughing at you. I was laughing at myself.”

“I’ll go ahead and take that as a compliment. Now, are you gonna let me in on the joke or do I need to devise a way to entice it out of you? I should tell you I’ve seen almost every episode of MacGyver.”

She stretched her leg straight and shifted her body on top of his, her middle at his middle, her chin perched on her folded hands at his sternum. “I wasn’t sure I’d ever have the chance to tell you this. Or ever want to, maybe. I don’t know.”

He drew the pad of his thumb along her cheek, tucked a dangling bit of hair behind her ear. “Hey,” he met her eyes, his voice as sincere as any she’d ever heard, “you can tell me anything, Kate. Anything at all.”

She angled her head downward and brushed her lips across his skin, the faint hint of salt and soap like discovered treasure. “You taste good.” She idled there another short moment. “And, I know, Castle. I do.” The corners of her mouth lifted in soft smile. “So, do you remember our trip to L.A.? For Royce?”

“Do I-”

“Of course you remember. It was just last year,” she interrupted in a mumble, more for her own stupidity than anything else. “Anyway, that night we stayed up and talked and you…well, I-”

“You mean that night on the couch in the hotel when all I wanted was to pull you against me and kiss you senseless? When you looked at me with those exquisite eyes of yours like you understood that’s exactly what I wanted? When I had to watch you walk away from me and live with the fact that you were alone in a bed across the room and I couldn’t do anything about it? _That_ night?” He’d barely taken a breath.

It was painful for her just listening to his words. Even now, after all that had happened in between, she was right back on the other side of that hotel room door, her hand poised above the handle, so ready to be ready.

_Just open it, Kate_.

“I came back.”

“You – you came back where? What do you mean?”

“You just- you were already gone. I watched you close the door behind you, Castle. And then _I_ had to live with that. I had to live with the fact that I was still too broken to let myself fall. God, I wanted everything I knew you wanted that night, Castle.” She pulled her hands apart and tucked them along his sides, her ear flat against his salty, soapy chest once again. “I know it doesn’t matter now, anyway, after everything. But, I knew then, Castle. I just wish I could’ve shown you.”

Her body rose and fell with the air in his lungs, his breath the only perceptible sound in their tiny bubble of a world. It soothed and calmed her always, simply having him near her, no matter how maddening he often proved himself to be. But the sensation of his skin against hers - here, tonight - overwhelmed her in a way she never imagined.

“Did I put you to sleep, Castle?” she whispered in jest, his fingertips tickling the ends of a wave of her hair. “You’re quiet again. What are you thinking about?”

“Hardly, I can assure you. No, my mind actually wandered back to that trip too. I was enjoying the image of you climbing out of that pool, dripping wet, scantily clad, legs sky-high. God, that was sexy as hell.”

She flicked him in the side with her finger. “I was wearing a bathing suit, Castle,” she protested. “It wasn’t some public peep show or anything. I was _working_ , if you also recall.”

His whole body flinched as he chuckled. “Yeah, sorry, all I remember is smooth, sun-kissed skin. Please don’t ruin it for me with all your cop mumbo jumbo.”

She slid her body gently upward, the contact and movement enough to set both of them off almost instantly. Hovering above him, she leaned in and seized his mouth, and he opened for her, welcoming, hungry. “Don’t forget, Writer Boy,” she cooed as she pulled back, her lips brushing his, “that cop mumbo jumbo is why you’re here with me right now.”

Her final word brought his mouth like a magnet, his arms secured at her waist as he rolled her onto her back, his knee sliding between her thighs for leverage. The room lit up in a flash of soft white light from beyond the tall windows behind them - heat lightning, lightning absent the intrusion of sound, yet no less beautiful in its hush.

“And why are you here with me?” he asked in a purr, close, eager for her words.

“You mean besides the free coffee?” she teased with a grin, the nails of her right hand trailing lightly down his back.

He pinned her left hand against the pillow above her head; she put up no resistance, accepted the welcome sensation of his weight. “Funny, cop lady. Let’s see if you’re still smiling tomorrow when I bring you decaf.”

With her open palm at his back, she encouraged him closer, close enough for her lips to tickle his ear as she spoke. “That’s why I’m here with you, Castle. Because I’ve known for so long you’re the only person I’ve ever wanted to spend every tomorrow with.”

The spring lightning danced around them once more, and they began again.


End file.
